The Herbalist
by AbyssalEve
Summary: Out in the forests an Herbalist is said to live. One who is said can heal any wounds in an instant. But she is seeking someone. Wanting vengence... but is she strong enough to do so?
1. Prologue

Prologue

The dark room was suddenly ablaze with light, as a deadly lightning bolt streaked past. Like a large drum, thunder could be heard throughout the abbey.

A molebabe shrieked as he leapt from bed and lay shivering on the cold floor, his little heart almost beating out of his chest.

A squeaking was heard from the corridor. Gradually getting louder as whatever it was came closer to the dormitories. Several Dibbuns thrust their blankets over their heads, crying and screaming in fear of what was coming upon them.

The oak door creaked open, then the sound continued. Not a breath was heard from the Dibbuns, they were scared stiff. Then another lightning bolt was fired, exposing the creature in a yellow light. An aged mousemaid was seated on a large chair with wheels.

The molebabe who had fallen to the ground cried out as he leapt onto the chair, calling out "Hoiler!" he clung to the old mouse without letting go.

"I though I heard some ruckus from over here" she said, smiling, though nobody could see. She looked around as she heard noises from all around. "Couldn't sleep young ones?" she asked, cradling the mole.

She was favoured by the Dibbuns; they all looked up to her as a second mother.

A small mousebabe climbed up her leg and snuggled against her to stay warm "We're scared! The ghosts and monsters are gonna eat us!"

The old mouse chuckled "As long as the spirit of Martin the Warrior stays with us, the ghoulies will know to stay far away."

"Miss'rs tell us'ns a stoiry!" the molebabe said in an odd mole accent.

There was an excited murmur through the Dibbuns, they loved stories. The old mouse sighed "Well, if it will get you little rogues to sleep. What'd you like to hear?"

"A tale of adventure, warriors and friendship, of course!" a hedgehog replied. All the other Dibbuns called out in agreement, those were their favourite stories.

There was silence as the old mouse sat, staring at her legs. She suddenly snapped back "Oh of course! Let's go down to the hall by the fire. You'll love this story. It's about a young herbalist and" she suddenly stopped "Maybe it's too sad to hear."

The Dibbuns cried out, pulling at the mousemaid. She just laughed and said "All right, follow me, easy now, it's pretty dark!" They made their way to the hall, the aged mouse in the squeaky chair in the lead.

Eventually they were all settled by the fire, eyes set on the old mouse. She closed her eyes tight, sighed and began. "This is the tale of a Herbalist..."


	2. The Beginning

[Note: Thanks for the comments people! I was in a rush while writing the prologue, so I'll rewrite it, remembering the Dibbuns accents =P I'm sorry if this story is too long, but I can't help myself! I also forgot to do one of those things, so I'll do it now:

Redwall is written by Brian Jacques, this is only a fanfic. Though I made all the characters in here except for Martin. I also created the village by the sea. Everything else is created by Brian Jacques.]

The Beginning

The morning sun glazed merrily across the shore, lighting up the ocean and giving it the appearance of a blanket embedded with jewels. Baby crabs scuttled through the sand, nipping at each other joyfully. A nice gently breeze swept through, tickling the budding trees.

Spring time was here at last! And what a lovely morning it was too.

Several mice came from the east, carrying a large net between them. Carefully they got to work, wading into the water and setting out their net.

A cozy village stood slightly to the east at the edge of the woods. Living there was only mice and retired shrews. The village was only made of a dozen, small, wooden huts. But they were all made with skill; the creature who had built them had spent a lot of time measuring out the wood and straw.

Most of the inhabitants were still sleeping peacefully. But there two creatures were outside.

A tall, wise looking mouse stood, a baby cradled in this arm. He wore faded green robes, and had a large brown bag swung around his shoulder.

The infant was tugging at the bag, crying out "Heralisht!" and trying to take the bag off him.

The father, an herbalist, who went by the name of Hearth, just laughed "You'll learn when you're older, daughter." His eyes trailed away from the infant in his arms and towards the shore. "Ah, looks like our breakfast is coming." He lightly tapped his child's paw as it drifted inside the bag, then called to the three mice "Charra! Harock! Syna!" They were holding the net, pleased grins on their faces as large fish wriggled about the net, trying to get free.

The creatures had just started making their way to the cooking hut when a large shadow fell upon them. They showed no signs of fear, Hearth turned slightly and saw a large seagull land behind them. "Zekrarr you silly goose!" he said "you've sure grown a lot! What brings you back so early?"

Surprisingly, the gull showed no sign of an accent, "Well you see sir, the whole flock of us were heading this way when we spotted a large ship. The rest went to investigate, I was sent to tell you."

"A large ship?" the mousemaid Syna repeated, "I shall hope they're friends!"

"Thank you, friend," Hearth said to Zekrarr, then nodded to the fish which were now air drowned and ready for cooking, "Would you like to join us for our Spring Fest?"

"No thanks, sir" the gull replied, "I prefer mine raw! Goodbye you land dwellers!" he called as he took flight.

"Bah bai fethar moushe!" the infant squeaked back.

By mid-morning breakfast was prepared. Several benches had been set up in the sand, enough seats to go with them. The tables were laid out with tasty looking dishes. Fresh trout, soaked in lemon and honey sauce, shrimp soup, wild berry pies and lovely salads, the fruits picked specially by Hearth. Jugs sat there too, full of fresh spring water, apple cordial or a special wine, which had been stored all winter.

The creatures of the village ate happily, enjoying their meal until an old shrew stood up. All eyes fell upon him as he spoke, "This morn, we are gathered to celebrate the rebirth of spring, the most beautiful time of year," he took a gulp of wine, continuing "seasons it has been, since this village was made, and it still holds strong today. This is a place where mice can live happily, and the shrews too old and fragile to lift a paddle may rest peacefully. We must cherish this spring, and the food it has given us and remember; though we may be weak, our hearts are like this village. Strong and able."

As the shrew sat, the creatures murmured. Never had they heard such a peculiar speech. But they soon forgot about it as they talked, laughed and joked. A group of retired shrews stood up to sing a lovely song.

Oh as the morn spread its shine

Upon the merry oh land,

The trees young lad, were sure divine

With buds a plenty on their hands.

But the land, my mate is not for a shrew

I'd not even stay for a feast.

But still the waters, I dream of you

Even that large shark beast!

Dreaming of the raft of my wish

My net is cast upon the sea

Catching my share of those baby fish

Now this is the spring for me!

Cheers went up from the shrew song as others got up to sing. When it had all died down, Harock turned to the herbalist's wife who'd been busy in the kitchen. She was a pretty mousewife, with deep green eyes and a flower behind her ear. "Thought of a name for the young one yet, Sherma?" Harock asked

Sherma was watching her infant pour half a jug of honey into the shrimp soup. She laughed as she replied, "Well, I was thinking, then the most grand name come to mind," her eyes sparkled happily as she pulled the infant away from the soup. "You silly rodent, from now on your name shall be Galthea!"

Galthea wriggled about her mother's arms yelling "Galtiar! Galtiar!"

Everyone was just getting up to start on the games when a shrew, whose eyesight was as good as it had been when he was younger, yelled out "A ship is drifting down this way!"

Immediately, every beast stood up. The mice had slightly frightened looks on their faces. The shrews on the other hand, stood still, jaws locked while staring at the ship.

"Sorry to frighten you young ones, but that there looks like the _Black Fang._ I'd recognize it any day; it's got quite possible the most vicious crew. But the captain, now he's something different. I'd say we're best to leave now, we're in no fighting position." A shrew said, a flash of fear appearing in his eyes

"Hold steady," Hearth told everyone, "they might not mean us any harm, let us talk peace with them."

Everyone looked unsure, but stayed back as Hearth moved closer to the shore. Sherma took his bag. It was made of brown cloth and had plenty of pockets on the inside. The bag contained herbs and healing equipment. Carefully, the mousemaid placed Galthea inside.

No one knew how long it took for the ship to land, but it eventually came. It was a large ship, the sails torn and had a large flag of a skull with swords coming out of its eyes. Up the front was a pole, with a creatures skull placed sickly on top.

"Ahoy there, creatures of the shore!" a gruff voice called out. A large sea rat walked up, hand around the pole. His face had a horrible gash running across his face and a large chunk was missing from his left ear. He wore stained red rags. A belt was worn oddly over his shoulder, coming down his chest. A large cutlass sat in the belt, close to his paws.

"Greetings, friend," Hearth said "what brings you here?"

The sea rat laughed "I've come for some new slav- er, I mean workers!" he replied, his eyes glowing darkly.

"My apologies sir, but we're not looking for jobs," Hearth said "Well, now that your business is done, may I ask that you turn around and please go elsewhere?"

The sea rat's eyes now turned read. Foam appeared at his mouth as he screeched "Nobody tells Vasark what to do!" a knife appeared out of nowhere as he flung it at Hearths throat. It hit dead on. "Get them! Catch as many as you can! Kill those too weak or old!"

There were screams and shouts from the shore. The old shrews grabbed anything they could find; sticks, shells and pebbles as they ran towards the vermin, yelling their old war cry "Logalogalogalogalog!" Though they were old, their fighting spirits came back. Several vermin were laid flat.

Sherma stood crying, hugging the herbalist's bag tight. A young mouse named Charra run up to her "Come on, miss, you need to get out of here," he said, pulling her arm.

Instead she pushed the bag into his hands, "Quick, save Galthea! Please!" before Charra could argue she was running to the shore screaming out her husband's name.

Zekrarr came back just in time to see what was happening. Creatures lay dead, while others were getting taken to the ship. The village was now burning, as fire arrows were flung at them. An arrow whooshed fast, getting Charra before he could make it to the forest. In a rage, the gull swooped down, spearing several rats in his beak.

"Get it! Kill the bird!" Vasark commanded his crew.

Arrows and stones were flung into the air. Zekrarr dodged them all skillfully. Then he saw the bag, the infant was crawling out of it.

"Stay in there little one, kaww!" the bird cawed, as it flew down. He grabbed the bag in one foot, then, flapped his white and grey wings. As he was taking off, he got an arrow straight through the left wing. He screeched in pain, as gull and bag fell into the forest.

Vasark grinned wickedly. The battle had been won, and he'd gained half a dozen oar slaves. He was about to go to the forest to take the gull for a feast but froze. A whole flock of them was heading his way!

"Get back to the ship you dingebags!" he ordered his crew, "those not back fast enough will be lunch for these birds!"

Sea rats ran screaming to the ship, afraid of the large gulls. Vasark stood by the oar slaves, new and old. "Row you worthless, pathetic lumps!" he scowled, waving his cutlass about threateningly.

Within moments they were at sea, chased by dozens of angry seagulls.

[Yay, finished this chapter I'm sorry it was so long, and sorry it was so sad. I felt bad as I was writing it ï But do sea rats have accents? I can't remember, I'll edit it if they do. Thanks for reading though!]


End file.
